


So Afraid

by yanderekirklandchan



Series: Thomas Barrow: Disenchanted with Life [1]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Depression, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Internalized Homophobia, Period-Typical Homophobia, Season/Series 06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-08 15:41:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20837966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yanderekirklandchan/pseuds/yanderekirklandchan
Summary: Everyone had a plan for the future except Thomas. When he looked to the future he saw nothing and therefore, he concluded, he mustn't have a future.OrAn insight into what Thomas was thinking when he decided his only option was to kill himself.





	So Afraid

Unwanted. That's what he was. Utterly and undeniably unwanted. Thomas took a shaky breath, his good hand trembling uncontrollably as he ran it over his face as if it would make it better. As if it would stop his lip from trembling or the burning in his eyes. The thing of it was that it wasn't even a new thing. He'd always been unwanted, ever since he was born.

Where other parents held their newborn infant in their arms with smiles on their faces and joy in their hearts, Thomas was entirely sure that he'd probably been abandoned on the very spot he'd been pushed out, left to cry into the darkness of the night while his mother rejoiced over finally having the gastly experience over with and his father blocked his ears and filled his glass. Had he been struck even then? Probably. His father didn't much like crying.

He was a fool. A stupid, niave fool. Because he had thought, with all of his heart he had believed, that things would get better. It was always 'when I've finished doing this' or 'when I manage to get to that' but no matter how hard he worked it didn't get better. He had thought that life would be wonderful when he went to school, then he would have friends. All he got was even more people to beat him. Then he had longed for the day he got to leave home, but being kicked out to pick pockets and scavenge through bins on the streets left much to be desired.

When he had gotten a job as a junior footman at Downton Abbey he couldn't believe his luck. But that, of course, had ended in failure too. He tried to make friends but as soon as people found out about how different he was he was never to be trusted. Carson had become something of a father to him and he wanted desperately his approval. All he got was disgust and suspicion. He deserved it, of course. Everyone had hated him when they got to know him so he pulled away, made sure no one could ever get that close. He gnashed his teeth and they stayed away and that was as it should be. They wouldn't like what they saw if he let them in and it was far easier to be hated for an act you put on than for who you really are.

Then he was sure it would get better when he became first footman, when he became a valet, when he left Downton entirely, when he started his own business, when he made friends, when he found a boyfriend, when he cured himself, when he stopped talking and kept his head down, when he became underbutler. Only… it never got better. By now, as his skin became grey and pinched and his hair took on a silver, he knew that it was a fools game. There was no 'it gets better'. Not for him. Never for him.

He sat silently at the table, picking at the piece of ham Mrs Patmore had prepared. He would surely throw up if he even tried to eat it so he didn't bother, it wasn't like anyone would care anyway. Besides, he wasn't working here anymore, he was merely freeloading until he could get a job. He was a burden and a menace. He didn't deserve to eat their food. Thomas could feel Miss Baxter's gaze burning the top of his head but he kept his head hung low, eyes downcast. Molsely soon distracted her anyway. Her concern wasn't out of any real love for him, it was simply because she was a kind soul. He was beyond the help of kind souls though, Anna's indifference was proof of that. Phyllis would catch on soon.

Thomas listened vaguely as everyone discussed what they would do with their free time while the family were occupied. Molsely and Daisy were occupied with their studies. Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson were settling into their new life as a married couple. Mrs Partmore had her bed and breakfast. Bates and Anna were expecting, not that they had told him, he'd eavesdropped. Andy was learning how to read and training for the farm. Phyllis could finally step beyond her convicted past and pursue a relationship with Molsely (though Thomas couldn't fathom why).

The point was… everyone was looking forward into the mist of the future and seeing their place. Everyone was hoping and dreaming and could touch it with the tips of their fingers. It made Thomas look forward too, oh weary traveller. And he couldn't see anything. At first he thought that perhaps he wasn't doing it right. He just wasn't thinking hard enough or trying hard enough. But the truth won out in the end, there was no denying it no matter how he tried to delude himself. His future was blank because he didn't have one.

He didn't just mean at the Abbey, that was beyond hope. Thomas had no place here. This was his home, this was his family, these were his friends. Even bloody Molsely. But this made sense to him. With a rush of relief and pain, this made sense to him. Because this was familiar, he knew how this worked. Homes kicked you out. Families hated your guts. Friends betrayed you. It hurt but it felt right, more right than trying to join in or awkward silences when he had intruded unwanted on a conversation. Thomas had been a fool all along to deny this. No, he had no future at Downton Abbey.

But he didn't have a future anywhere else either. Mrs Hughes had said this was for the best, he would make friends somewhere else. That wasn't true, he knew it. Because he had always been friendly to Mrs Patmore and she suspected him of corrupting Andy. He had gone out of his way to be nice to Andy and was regarded as a pervert sinful lavender for it. He had tried and tried to win Carson's trust but in the man's eyes he was jumping every footman and hallboy there was for his foul homosexual needs. No one even cared enough to notice he was crumbling. Or perhaps they simply didn't care. So no. He could not make friends. There was no future in that either.

His family wasn't even worth mentioning, there was no future in that, and he had no ambitions or hobbies, not anymore. Even clocks had been tainted by him. The memory of golden skin and perfect hair, of Jimmy's perfect smile. The only thing he'd been living for these days was his job. Only, it hadn't taken him too long to realise he was useless. Now he didn't even have that, because he was being fired. Well. Not fired, he didn't even deserve that much of Lord Grantham's time. He was to simply walk out the door himself, smile on his face. He was to tie the noose himself and step into it.

He couldn't find a job. Thomas wasn't being picky, it wasn't a matter of finding a prestigious position, though he knew they were all thinking it. They all thought he hadn't gotten a job by now because he wanted to be a butler or a valet or something impressive to some big important family. That wasn't it at all. He just could not. Find. A. Job. He had applied for footmen positions, even hallboys! All over England, he'd even branched out of service entirely. He had gone for interviews at butchers, schools, factories. He'd looked into the railroad, mining, shoe polishing. By now there wasn't a single open post he didn't apply for and nothing. He was really that unwanted.

So no, he could not see a future. Not in a job. Not with friends. Not with a lover. Not with a family. Not with hobbies. He couldn't even see himself getting out of bed tomorrow, there didn't seem to be much of a point to such an action. He was seriously considering handing himself in to the police on charges of being gay. Well, that wasn't the technical word for the crime but it was what it was. At least then he'd either have a roof over his head or a noose around his neck, either or. If he'd had that blasted 'Choose your own path' treatment stuff he would use it. Not to cure himself, just in the hopes that it might finally finish him off.

But there lay the answer. He looked toward the future and saw nothing because there was nothing. He, Thomas Barrow, didn't have a future. Completely and truly he had no future, in a very literal sense. It all made sense to him now! Like being hated and cast out of the house had made sense. Thomas didn't have a future because he was going to kill himself.

Itt was a relief to him, he felt a rush of the closest thing to joy he'd felt in a long time. It could have been horror. Adrenaline was close enough to endorphins. Thomas smiled happily to himself, smirking as if to some inside joke, which he supposed it was. He hadn't felt so secure in a long time. Maybe in all of his life. He hadn't felt so excited in years! It finally made sense. He finally knew what he had to do. He looked towards the future and he had an answer. Oh how the future was bright! The end of his suffering was near. No more pain. No more pain. It was all he could do not to giggle like an idiot, biting on his lip to contain his smile.

In his head he began to plan. He planned with excitement, practically bouncing in his seat, like a child would for their birthday party. Or Christmas! It was so refreshing to feel again. He had been numb so long he didn't think he could distinguish one emotion from another. So he didn't really know for sure if what he was feeling was excitement or joy but he decided to call it that for the sake of his internal dialogue. Even if his eyes were burning tears and his chest was clenched so tight each breath was a gasp. It was merely the excitement.

But how should he do it? A gun… no, he didn't have one and couldn't afford one. Jumping from the roof? Too much mess. Swallowing pills? He didn't have any, and the lye cupboard was locked up by the kitchen staff so there wasn't anything worth swallowing. Hanging? No, he was proud and vain till the end and hanging corpses were so ugly. A knife would have to do.

He'd always found the sight of his own blood ever so pretty. And if he'd been able to self harm with a razor then surely he could take it one step further and make the final cut. He should do it somewhere easy to clean up, after all he was killing himself partly to keep out of people's way and stop being a nuisance. Tiles were easy to clean than the carpet. The bathroom? The bath would be better. Then he'd have done half the cleaning process for them! It would be a simple matter of pulling the plug and calling the mortuary after that.

Thomas felt breathless, a hysteric joy like mania settled over him. He had planned it. He had a future! He finally had an ambition, a purpose, a goal to aim towards. It felt good. _It feels terrifying. I'm so scared. Please, please, someone save me… Someone help me. Please!_ It felt wonderful. He was ecstatic. _Please… please… I've never been so scared in my whole life! I'm so alone…_ He had taken his place amongst all the others, looking forward to the future with hope. With their bed and breakfasts and their school and their lovers. He had the one thing he had always had. His life. In his hands. His for the taking. _I'm so scared! I don't want this. I don't want to die!_

"You're looking… happy." Phyllis said with a frown and a smile, as if she wasn't sure whether to be pleased or concerned.  
Thomas smiled back "I am. I know what I'm doing after this! It's all decided." He turned to Carson "I'll be out of your hair as soon as you like."  
_Help me_  
"Really? Well that's nice, dear." Mrs Hughes said with what Thomas didn't want to believe was real care.  
_Please help me_  
"You don't seem torn up about leaving." Bates observed.  
_ I don't want to go… I don't want to do this! I don't want to die!_

"I'll notify his Lordship tomorrow." Carson said, not even trying to sound sombre.  
_I'm dying. I'm dying. I can't feel anything anymore._  
"See, it wasn't the end of the world like you made it out to be." Anna said with a small smile.  
_The end of my world. The end of me. I don't want to die! I don't want to live… I want it all to end._  
"Can't understand who'd hire you." Molsely muttered.  
_I'm afraid. I'm alone. It hurts so much! Too much._  
"Good thing I've got a proper teacher now, eh?" Andy said with a small smile.  
_Useless. Worthless. Time to die. No future. No hope!_

Thomas set down his newspaper, for the first time in what seemed like forever. He had no more use for the jobs column. He smiled and joined in with the conversation, easy now that he knew nothing mattered.

_I don't want to die._

_I have no choice._

_I'm so afraid._


End file.
